


I Will Survive

by LaughingFreak



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dark, Dissociation, F/F, F/M, Physical Abuse, Rape, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21917434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingFreak/pseuds/LaughingFreak
Summary: Sansa misses the gentleness and sensuality of her lover and being in Ramsay’s clutches only makes that feeling choke her.
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Sansa Stark, Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell
Kudos: 34





	I Will Survive

**Author's Note:**

> Had a hell of a time trying to come up with a summary (totally horrible with them, titles too actually). I had this thing half written and finally typed it up and finished it on the computer.
> 
> Also, I really like writing Margaery and Sansa together as a couple (I have only a couple others when it comes to this fandom when it comes to writing them). I hope you guys like this, even if it's dark.
> 
> And I'm also going to warn everyone, even with the tags: this fic is heavy and to read at your own discretion. You have been warned.

There were many regrets that she had, so many that it was hard to keep count at this point. There weren’t enough fingers on her hands for her to count them. One of her biggest regrets was believing any of the words that came out of the mouth of Littlefinger, words that were spun to bring hope into her heart and lies to forge her into his little doll. She was a stupid little girl that wanted out of her cage, a stupid little girl that let fear rule her, a stupid little girl that ended up here where she wished for everything to end.

Sometimes wishing for the end was all she could think about.

But Sansa was never going to be safe in King’s Landing, no matter how much her love tried to make it so, but coming North with Littlefinger made things much worse. Starks were meant for the North, but now, even in the North, she was hurting by another person’s hand once again. From one horror to another.

Here she was, in the North, in her home of Winterfell. She was imprisoned in her childhood home and raped every night in the room her parents had slept in whenever her husband felt like having her. That term, husband, left a nasty taste in her mouth; that vile creature—not even a man as far as she was concerned—was undeserving of such a title. Her body, even when left alone in her chambers and untouched, could feel every strike against her to break and bruise her skin and she was constantly sore between her legs at just the remembrances of their encounters.

Even if he was never touching her it was like his touch never left her skin, his words always poisoning her ears, and he was never far from her nightmares.

Sansa stiffened, ramrod straight, when she heard footsteps coming closer to her door. She steeled herself as those steps slowed to a stop in front of her door. It was late, night had fallen hours ago, and she knew who it was. She didn’t need to hear a voice to know who. It could only be her husband, this was the time he’d come every night he’d come to see her. Sometimes he’d bring Theon—she refused to call him Reek because she was not going to call him a name that this vile man gave him—and other nights Ramsay came alone. Either way, he liked to make sure it hurt and that she bled enough to satisfy him.

This was an every night occurance and she knew to steel herself before every encounter.

_She was a wolf. She was a Stark._

With held breath she watched the door open and in walked her torturer, her husband, Ramsay. Tonight he was by himself, which meant that Theon—not Reek—was in the kennels with the dogs. He smiled at her, the expression screaming ‘danger’ and ‘run’. Her face, however, was like stone and marble, cold like the North. This was something that has gotten easier over the years to protect herself.

Sansa hasn’t been safe in a long time.

She clutched the furs wrapped around her shoulders tightly. It was the only tell the she let pass her. Ramsay caught it, of course he did, but it was the only thing she tried to let him catch. She didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. He smiled at her, devilish and predatory.

“Present to me, Sansa. I want to see my wife on all fours like a bitch,” he ordered with a smirk, his eyes dark with desire.

So it was that kind of night. She took a shaky breath and dropped the furs from her shoulders. Anxiety thrummed through her veins and her heart beat at a rapid pace as she turned her back to him to get on her hands and knees on top of the bed. Her arms hands shook, but she gripped onto the furs beneath her fingers and she held back tears. The humiliation never ceased or went away no matter how many times she grudgingly followed his whims.

She stayed near the edge of the bed, her feet dangling off the side. She closed her eyes and slowly spread her knees. Her trembling hands lifted the skirts of her gown to bare herself to him, so he could see her better.

He chuckled and groped her bottom, his grip tight on one cheek enough to leave a mark. She wasn’t wet, never was, but it never bothered him when he could just use her blood as lubricant after he beat her. There were still welts on her thighs from the other night when he flogged her.

The sound of shifting leather and furs had her tighten her grip in her own furs beneath her fingers in a white knuckle grip; she had to remind herself to breath and to regulate it. It was without warning that she felt him thrust into her cunt and she bit her lip to stop herself from crying out.

He groaned above her and used her at a fast and brutal pace.

Sansa disappeared into herself, going to a place far from this room and this bed and this man.

* * *

_The gardens of the castle were beautiful, but made better by the woman that was beside the redhead. Sansa watched as a delicate hand of the woman grazed against the petals before turning to face her. It was just her and Margaery this afternoon, something that was hard to come by during the daylight hours, but Margaery made it clear that she only wanted Sansa with her for the afternoon._

_It was nice. She felt like she could breathe._

_A slow smile crept onto beautiful, glossed lips and Sansa’s heart fluttered in her chest. “You look lovely today, Sansa.” She stepped in close to her and Sansa could smell the flower-y fragrances of her perfumes as Margaery’s came to rest on Sansa’s blush tinted cheek. Her hand ran down from her cheek to her neck and to where her heart raced within her chest._

_Margaery’s palm was soft and gentle and she wanted to curl into the other woman’s embrace._

_“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said, her blush darkening._

_“None of that now, love.” Margaery stepped into her space until they were pressed together and their lips were barely a breath apart. “We are alone and I want to be able to enjoy my lover without pretenses.” She leaned up to kiss the redhead, gentle and loving and teasing._

_Sansa fell into it, melted, and tried to follow her lips once Margaery pulled away with a smile full of mischief._

_“Sansa,” Margaery called, pressing her lips gently to her jaw and down her neck until she reached the redhead’s shoulder and resting her head there._

_Shyly, Sansa reached for her lover’s hand and laced their fingers together, closing her eyes and hiding small smile against Margaery’s light brown hair. “Yes, okay.”_

* * *

Ramsay yanked her back by the hair and she cried out as he held her to his chest. “You’re mine, Sansa,” he hissed into her ear.

Then his fingers wrapped around her throat.

* * *

_Sansa laid with her head against Margaery’s chest, her lover’s fingers combing through her red hair and humming a song. It was late into the night and the castle was quiet. Shae had helped sneak Sansa into her lover’s quarters, the only person that knew of her relationship with the Queen-to-be. Her and Margaery spent most of the night memorizing each other’s bodies and pressed skin-to-skin, sharing breaths and finding pleasure in the other. Her hand maiden will be back before the sunrises to take Sansa back to her rooms._

_But, for now, Sansa took great joy in the arms of her lover._

_“You’re so strong, Margaery, I don’t know how you do it,” said Sansa, curling into the other woman’s side and letting her thumb stroke over the skin Margaery’s hip. “I’m always so afraid and foolish.”_

_“Sansa, love, you’re strong, too.” She kissed her hair. “You’ve been through so much and yet you’re still so true and kind. It’s okay to be afraid as long as you keep fighting.” Margaery takes Sansa’s and brushes her lips against her knuckles in a soft kiss and presses them to her cheek. “I just wish I could protect you more.”_

_The redhead flattened her palm against Margaery’s cheek and leaned up press a soft kiss to her lips. “You try your best and I have been safer since you have came to King’s Landing.”_

_Margaery pulls the redhead on top of her and presses a kiss to her lips. “I would have you as my queen-consort if I could.” She kissed her lips and kissed down her jaw and sucked on her neck. “I would have you by my side, always.”_

_She gasped and shivered from the kisses and the hands that roam her skin in feather light touches. “I wish I could marry you, be your wife.”_

_That got a small whine from Margaery before she was pulled down into a kiss, a fierce and passion filled one, and Sansa fell into it and gave her everything she was. Gave the woman she loved all she could, the only one she wanted to give herself to._

_“I like the idea,” Margaery shifted until her thigh was between Sansa’s legs and pressed against her, earning a gasp, “you as my wife.”_

_Sansa rubbed herself against Margaery’s thigh and trembled, pressing her forehead to the pillow next the other woman’s head. “Yes,” she moaned, breathless._

_“Be my wife, Sansa, we’ll take vows and no one has to know, but us.” She kissed her and kissed her and kissed her. “Between us and the gods.”_

_Sansa pulled back to look at her, her eyes glistening in happiness and her heart soaring. This woman, breathless and beautiful and smart, a woman that wants her like she wants her, and Sansa had to smile. It wasn’t what she had dreamed when she was a young girl, but it would be perfect for her as a woman now in love. “Yes.” She kissed her. “Yes.”_

_Both of them were smiles and giggles as they made love again and again._

* * *

His hand tightened around her neck and his thrusts became more erratic and brutal. It was getting hard to breath because with each thrust his grip tightened and cut off air. The edges of her vision began to blackened and she thought she was going to pass out. She reached to his wrist and struggled to get him to let go, to loosen his grip, and he only groaned and thrusted faster.

Just as she was about to pass she felt his seed inside her and his grip loosened on her throat. She gasped for air and tears streamed down her face, her body shook and she felt liquid run down between her legs. Whether it was blood or his seed she couldn’t be sure, but it could have been both.

All she knew was that her body hurt and she could only hope that that was all for the night. Between her legs was sore and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in her furs and disappear.

He dropped her onto the bed and pulled out of her without warning; she winced. Sansa didn’t look at him, just stared off at the wall across the room.

Ramsay tore open her gown until she was completely bare to him. “It’s going to be a busy night for you, dear.” He pulled her by the chin to face him and he kissed her, smirking. “You will be beautiful in tears and bruises.”

* * *

_They kissed in front of The Seven, spoke their vows and promises in the dead of night. They exchanged a piece of jewelry, bracelets with charms representing sigils of their houses together and Margaery’s colored in the Stark house’s colors while Sansa’s bore House Tyrell’s colors._

_Outside the sept stood Shae guarding and watching out for anyone that came by._

_Sansa giggled and kissed her wife once more. It was not ordained and nothing was official, but to the two women that stood before The Seven it was enough. To the two women they were as good as married._

_Margaery pulled Sansa gently down for a kiss, hands cupping both her cheeks while the redhead’s was on her waist. The kiss was short but sweet and she pressed her forehead against Sansa’s. “My wife.”_

_Sansa smiled and closed her eyes. “Your wife.”_

* * *

He was inside her again and she felt a bit of herself die inside as she stared at the bracelet on her wrist. She stared, expression blank.

Ramsay slapped her, busting her lip.

_She was a wolf. She was a Stark._


End file.
